


Foolish Pawns (Historical Aushun)

by artistocrazy



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alliances, Alternate Universe - Historical, Angst, Bullying, Canonical Child Abuse, Character Death, Child Abuse, Child Soldiers, Emotional Manipulation, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Immortals, M/M, Period-Typical Sexism, Political Alliances, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-05
Updated: 2018-08-07
Packaged: 2019-06-22 03:05:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15572310
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/artistocrazy/pseuds/artistocrazy
Summary: The year is 1570. To honor an agreement made with the Habsburgs by her late father, the great warrior and national representative of the Kingdom of Hungary, Erzsebet Hedervary, is forced into servitude at the house of the Holy Roman Empire. More specifically, she is in direct servitude under Roderich Edelstein, the national representative of the Dutchy of Austria who is more of a pompous clerk than any kind of fighter he attempted to be in their youth. The childhood enemies have much to face in this new living arrangement and are forced to either find ways to make the best of their situation or risk leaving it. In the meantime, the two gain a better understanding of each other in the process and find that maybe the other is not as insufferable as they once thought.





	1. Captured

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 1570 -  János Zsigmond (otherwise known as John Sigismund Zápolya or Szapolyai, or King John II) abdicated the throne of the Kingdom of Hungary in favor of the Holy Roman Emperor Maximilian II, a member of the Austrian House of Hapsburg. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I don't have any knowledge of medieval German or Hungarian or old English, so I'm asking you guys to please suspend your disbelief for this passage. Thanks! Enjoy the angst!

She had been struggling against the iron chains for hours. Funny, how it had taken twice as long for these guards to restrain the Great Erzsebet in the first place. Regardless of the magnitude of her proud resistance, it did not change the fact that she was chained to the ground and locked away, held captive in her own home. Forget the Ottomans – she at least felt fairly challenged. This was a defeat she hadn't known before. The chafe of the chains against her wrists, to see the charcoal stains of them emulate the stains of the room. So dark, so gritty, so maddeningly frustrating.

She halted only for a moment as the door opened to reveal a light and three figures entering. Two faded into the darkness of the room, but the short one in the middle would only shine brighter, wearing more fine purple silks than she might ever think to see in such a place. There was so much starch in that collar that the little rays of light there caught onto the separate particles as though they were catching dust. She knew him instantly – Roderich Edelstein, the national representative of the Archduchy of Austria and the Hapsburg Empire. Or rather, a clerk disguised as a military power.

 _Szar_. Of all possible conquering parties, it had to be him. And through rule of law, no doubt. Magyar would hang his head in shame, if he could see her from wherever. She barely wanted to think of it. All she wanted was to earn her freedom.

If she could break the Austrian twerp before, she could do it again. She attempted to pierce his powdered, smug expression with her green eyes as she spoke, determined and sure of her next victory. "Te. Mit akarsz?"1

The smug expression never left his face as he stood above her, taller for once. He had yet to meet her gaze, and looked around to toy with her. He scrunched his face, confused, and lifted a dainty, gloved finger to his ear and spoke, barely attempting to temper his pubescent voice,

"Was war das?"2 He teased until looking down at her, unable to control his condescension as leaned down towards her. "Oh! Das waren Sie da! Grüß Gott!"3

She spoke fiercely, "Engedj el. Most, ha tudod, mi a jó neked!"4

His pride and light tone didn't falter, regardless of how much the balance in his voice did. "Wie bitte? Wir sprechen Deutsch hier. Im das Hapsburgerreich. Sprechen Sie Deutsch, Ungarn?"5

She quickly lunged towards him, if not to wipe the thought of such a smug face off of the face of the earth, "Baszd-"6

"Ah, ah. Ich verstehe das nicht. Du musst im Deutsch antworten. Ich kann nicht so lange warten. Und du auch, im hier. Sprechen Sie Deutsch oder nicht, Ungarn?"7

She glared up at him, flashing a snarky smile, before spitting at him.

Roderich attempted to maintain composure while wiping her mess off of his shoulder cuff with an unrestrained flick of it back towards her. It did him well to remember that although the restraints could not prevent everything, they existed for a reason, and she was caught in them with nowhere else to go.

One of the guards chimed in before the young master could have done something not quite civil. "Sie spricht auch Englisch, Herr Edelstein."8

"Ah... Well, I suppose that will do for the time being. You're quite lucky I already know English: otherwise, I might have left you here to rot. No matter. You will learn German in time."

She laughed wickedly – an unsettling cackle worthy of such a witch, in the young master's mind. "This humors you?" he asked.

She raised her head in defiance and smirked back at him, "I wouldn't dare speak such a foul language."

"I suppose this is fair," Herr Edelstein responded, unfettered by her petty games. "I dare not imagine how tainted it would sound on such a quick tongue."

"The feeling is quite mutual. I don't believe Hungarian would suit such a ... wavering voice."

The corner of his mouth twitched before he responded. "It would be wise of you not to make such comments, considering your current predicament. Regardless of how it happened, you are currently under my jurisdiction."

Despite his sass, he still could only handle a certain amount of taunting. She would run with it – an actual battle might better suit the situation. "Quite a dream you're having, isn't it? I suppose next you'll say I'm here because you succeeded in warfare."

"Say what you will," he retorted, drinking in his own pride, "but at least I recognize a victory when it is achieved."

"And at least  _I_  know the difference between a victory that is honorable and a victory that is not."

The clerk peered down at her, unfaltering in confidence over his way. "It may not hold the same glory as warfare, but peaceful abdication does accumulate influence more sensibly, without all of the bloodshed. In fact, I'm more pleasantly surprised that I did not have to break a sweat in order to conquer this territory."

"Is it as pleasant as it is shameful that you should earn it like a spoiled child?" Was that a tear behind those glasses? It was only a matter of time before she urged the fight she could just as easily win.

He bent down so their faces were level, his voice hushed down. "You will not spoil this for me. Do remember that I can now spoil all the rest of your life, if I so choose." Was he trying to threaten her?  _This_  was threatening?  _Pathetic_.

Erzsebet arched her back, as if to expose her weak spots on a dare, prove the theatricality of this supposed civility. "Then why not end it and give your ancestors something to temper them?"

He observed her for a second, calculating her tactic, before standing up straight to stand taller than her again and to pace the floor, if not just to exploit his ability to do so. For an uptight aristocrat, he was not a complete fool. "Unlike you and your people, I am not bloodthirsty in my sadism. Why would I waste a resource when I can just as easily benefit from it? Your continued existence would be quite useful to me."

She threw her head back into obnoxious laughter, which caused him to turn to face her again. If he implied what she thought he was, she couldn't help herself but laugh at the thought of him trying. "As if you would know how," she taunted.

He sneered at the mere suggestion. "Your typical vulgarity is none of my concern.  _I_  was referring to the Hapsburg house. To maintain such an estate as it continually grows is a constant effort, to which I expend my resources."

Maintain?  _Szar!_  She wasn't to be a guard – she was to be a servant! A mere housemaid! A warrior of her likes reduced to the housemaid of a spoiled clerk! Her blood boiled as she growled lowly. "As I should have assumed - there would be no honor in this arrangement. Only your shallow civilities."

"And where is honor lacking, Ungarn?" the pompous clerk continued pacing, drinking in her offense. "The one civil trait I can bring myself to admire from your people is their commitment to agreements. This is a legally-binding arrangement made by  _your_  rulers. Lest you dishonor your people and the good word your father stood for, you will work and take residence on my estate, unless you would rather submit to the Ottomans. Is that understood?"

Erzsebet's intense scowl lessened as a hitch in her throat reappeared at the memory of her beloved father. The pompous, powdered clerk had a point. As much as it was shameful to suffer such a defeat in the wake of losing him, it would be more shameful to dishonor Magyar's word so soon after seeing him fade. Besides, maybe sparing her people more intense warfare could be a good thing – they couldn't hold out forever.

She withheld her tears from the tiny tyrant - she would not give him the satisfaction of knowing any victory close to what she had ever gained over him. She peered at the chains on her wrists and wondered if she would learn to forget them.

"Very well," she grumbled sullenly. "I submit, only for the honor of Magyar."

And now the victory was undoubtedly real for Roderich as he took full advantage of his newfound authority. He rose his chin higher to peer down at his new maid over condescending spectacles. "From now on you will refer to me as Herr Edelstein or Sir. You will be set to leave in a matter of three hours, in order to ensure you are prepared for travel and that you have said a sufficient farewell to this place."

"Buda." How dare he say it so carelessly, as if it was an easy conquest.

"Wie bitte?"

"It has a name," she stated, with channeled pride of her own. At least do well to honor it."

"Excuse me. To whom are you referring to?"

Through gritted teeth, she answered. "To you, Sir."

The aristocrat smiled a disgusting, infuriating smile and nodded his head to her, not anywhere close to a bow. "Indeed I shall honor it, if only to take in my victory over it."

He turned sharply, his coat tails sweeping the air, as he moved towards the exit followed by the guards returning to their post by the door.

Now that the silky blight of the room had left, the Great Erzsebet felt no shame in releasing her tears. It was not enough for Magyar. With exasperated grunts turning into rage-filled cries, she kicked at the dirt and resisted the chains more severely until she rolled to her side and let the defeat sink in. No real honor, no escape.

Upon hearing the door shut behind him and hearing the echo of such struggles from the room, he turned to the guard to his left. "Ensure that she is clean before she enters the carriage. I want none of that barbaric filth to cross over our borders."

_________________________________

The Hungarian submitted to the guards requests – she was cleaned and clothed quickly. She submitted to a lowly peasant dress and scarf, hiding her wild, flowing hair. She had one request – to pray in the nearby church, before saying farewell to her home and the world as she knew it. In the stone building, the latin chants infected the tall scaffolding like old spirits. She knew she could not risk singing with the monks in the clothes she was in, couldn't allow her spirit to fly through the air with the others echoing around the walls. Even if she were wearing her armor, she had started to struggle with masking herself as a boy.

So she prayed, as close to the tabernacle as she could afford to be. She prayed. Dutifully, fervently, heavily, she prayed. She needed an answer, a justification for what was happening to her. For what had happened to her father. For what would happen to her city, her people. She prayed. Bitterly, deliberately, in near agony through her sobs. God would not think less of her for her constant devotion in the wake of all of her sins. Her regrets, her mourning, her turmoil spoke to the conflict of a higher calling. Perhaps He would favor her with escape – a better world, a better life, her liberation. Perhaps He would reach down for her and give her wings like a Turul to fly away with. Perhaps He could let her start a new life in a nunnery, in prayer, in the solitude she wanted.

The thought of giving up on the modern world was too tempting, but deep down she knew within her soul Magyar would hang his head in shame. Hiding was not the way. It was not the plan. Her meditative focus on the echoed chants caused her to hide all she thought she really could – her face, bitterly weeping into her scarf. Even then, she felt the eyes of the guards on her back, ready to walk her out to a carriage that wasn't hers. That would probably never be hers.

Gripping her firmly by her arms, the Hungarian regained a semblance of pride as she passed by her newfound oppressor, who stood by the wide doorway. One of the guards was kind enough to dip a finger in holy water and trace a cross on the prisoner's head. She tilted her chin back, judgmentally glaring at Herr Edelstein, to cement her devotion toward divinity and remind him of her worth in the eyes of a larger power. To state she could not ever doubt the miracle that would free her someday. She had willpower. She had strength. She had gifts that kept her alive for centuries. She had faith. She would be saved. She would save herself.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:
> 
> 1\. You. What do you want?
> 
> 2\. What was that?
> 
> 3\. Oh, that was you there! Good day!
> 
> 4\. Release me, if you know what's good for you.
> 
> 5\. What? We speak German here, in the Hapsburg Empire. Do you speak German, Hungarian?
> 
> 6\. *Introduction to any incredibly offensive Hungarian phrase beginning with "F*ck"*
> 
> 7\. Ah, ah. I don't understand that. You must answer in German. I cannot wait so long. Neither can you, in here. Do you speak German or not, Hungarian?
> 
> 8\. She also speaks English, Lord Edelstein.


	2. The Keeper of the Lavish Prison

As expected and with some disturbing form of relief, she did not share a carriage back to Vienna with Herr Edelstein. She had her own, which had just enough size for her and included a copy of the bible that was unfortunately in German. After a few days of using it as a footrest, she succumbed to picking it up out of boredom. She otherwise had little to do beyond look at nature's sculpting in the hills and valleys around her. She could also fancy losing her mind, listening to distant string music, probably coming from local villages. It was unlike what she had heard before - maybe the sound was an angel attempting to reach for her hand and fly her out of her cage. 

Herr Edelstein's carriage moved ahead of hers on these dirt roads - an overblown, overcompensating display of glory in its use of silk curtains and gold gilding. She knew it was a lie - if anything, it only looked like more of a target to her, to boast such wealth and prestige so openly, without fear of robbery or siege. It was pompous nonsense to her - the immature parade of a tyrant. Who in the world was he trying to impress in forrested roads? Was it the principle of taking her prisoner in such fanfare? Were they his attempts to warp her greatness into the worth of a prize? A conquest worthy of respect? 

Erzsebet understood why she was not free to simply follow behind on a horse - her equestrian skills were beyond that of any normal soldier. She could easily escape. In deed, anyway. If it were not so shameful to her father, she would have already done it. To break his word would do too much to dishonor the man, and she was nothing if not honorable. 

Even so, if she were not so honor bound, she wasn't sure how much she would give just for the freedom to ride openly, even if her horse would have been tied behind the gaudy carriage in front of her. 

It was better than feeling trapped in a cage, waiting for her curtains to be pulled back to give her local bread and stew, or to be escorted to relieve herself. 

After a few weeks, the entourage made an abrupt stop. With the drawing of her curtains, she looked upon a large wall, likely the entryway to a lavish estate. After a few moments, the party had entered into a large, expensive property. A property that was Erzsebet's to maintain, but not to own. 

Her time in her little cage was over. 

Her time in her large prison had only begun. 

___________________________

The quieted halls were brought into life with the sound of clicks and bustling noise. Herr Edelstein strode around the house upright, with his hands behind his back, gesturing to every part of the property grandly, as if the entire place were a palace on its own. The Hungarian shuffled behind him, reluctantly but dutifully. She would be damned to let the aristocrat believe her a brute through and through. She bit her lip into silence, understanding her position, as he continued to ramble on his long-winded power trip. They must not have happened often, if he relished it this much. The thought of it being rare only added to her disgust. 

"I pride myself on running a household with strict rules and discipline, which I imagine you would appreciate, what with your militant leanings. Without order, I believe, there is no understanding, and a household is set to fall to ruin in such a state. Much like a society, civilization requires rules to be followed. Here, I like to keep things simple, in that I make the rules and ask only for obedience."

She grimaced, absorbing the gravity of her situation even deeper. Here she was, a servant to one of her easiest opponents. How in the world did she end up in such a pitiful state? Her feet dragged, scuffing the floor in the hopes of making some kind of mark, some kind of resistence within her reach. So she would not have to think herself a real prisoner.

"As I have told you before, Hungarian, you will oversee the maintenance of this residence. This means you will be accountable for the cleaning, the cooking, the washing, and the general appearance and upkeep associated with the buildings inside these walls. All open rooms are within your care, as well as the small stable holding the livestock, but do not get too excited. The walls are still heavily guarded, so there is no point in trying to escape on foot or on horseback. Besides, this property spreads several acres. You would be discovered well before you came close to the front gate."

She droned back solemnly, quietly scolding herself into picking up her feet as they moved further down the hall. Less to clean later. Less work to make for herself. More time to pray for a miracle yet to come.

"Yes, Herr Edelstein." If her father were not weeping for her, her spirit cried so inside.

Erzsebet took note of the furniture, the dust floating in through the windows, and the seemingly distorted portraits that lined forever down the corridor. Row after row of seeing Edelstein's self-important face, his perpetually raised chin pinned up by that ridiculous mole. No matter how many variations existed, she could still only see in them a spoiled brat, a pompous twerp. While simple in its light design, the aristocrat had somehow found a way to make the residence a hyperfixation on himself. As if she expected any less from him. 

Noting her lack of enthusiasm, the aristocrat provided some concessions in the agreement. "Obviously, you won't be alone in this endeavor - there is not enough time in a day for such things, and I do not expect immediate changes. You can clearly see the work that must be done, and it is not as if we do not have enough help to ensure the upkeep of such a place, but they are in need of someone to organize them more directly and serve as a more serious face to represent them, especially the littler ones."

She scoffed, accidentally letting her resistence show through her cheeky wit. "So you trust a barbarian like myself to oversee the preparation of your food and the chopping of your wood and the fetching of your water and the care of your weaponry?"

He looked forward, chin raising ever higher and eyes peering down ever lower. He could only assume this was perhaps some form of military humor or a challenge to his authority. He reminded himself to keep calm, in that it was the best way to maintain order. "If you kill or poison me, you do realise I'll only come back, and you'll be demoted to far worse for the insolence. I happen to think the position we have chosen to offer you is quite beneficial. Your skills are valuable, but we cannot immediately use you directly for your militant prowess, as useful as that would be. But it is not as though your skills are otherwise useless outside of the military."

"You've started saying we all of a sudden," she observed. "Who else is there I cannot kill or poison in this house?"

Cheeky, vulgar, military humor. How charming. He'd reciprocate by withholding any acknowledgment of it. Maybe she would understand to let it go this way. "I reside here most of the time, but this house belongs to the nation representative of the Holy Roman Empire and is also sometimes shared by the nation representative of the Monarchy of Spain. Both show up occasionally, but are for the most part partaking in conquests for the house. Come along. I will show you to their quarters." 

He ascended the staircase and within a moment directed Erzsebet to view two poorly lit sleeping quarters with large, fancily decorated bedding. Both clearly had not seen their owners in some time, in that their collection of dust was more apparent than the rest of the house. She'd forgotten the dust and grime for a moment in observance of the larger room. The room clearly set up for the representative of the Holy Roman Empire - had a bed designed for a small child. It must have been centuries since he'd last slept there. 

"When was the last time he was here?" she quipped. "The 10th Century?"

He peered down at her from over his spectacles, giving her a look through piercing, violet eyes that he thought would remind her of her place. "As I said, you will not have to worry about these rooms terribly often. They will require special cleaning for times when either party is expected to stay, but their upkeep is otherwise not a pressing priority. In other words, I will tell you when they are expected to be here, and you will ensure the necessary preparations for them."

Erzsebet reflected momentarily on all of her new responsibilities and thougth back to her people, her beloved Buda. She refrained from walking on further and called out to Edelstein, as a way to hold him in place. It at least turned him around on his heel. She lifted her head up and placed her hands on her hips, owning her superiority within the moment. "So if I am to do all of these things, what will become of the industry and politics of my kingdom?"

"Oh, dear me," he feigned forgetfulness, placing a hand to his face, "I thought I had made this perfectly clear. Those are no longer your responsibilities - they are mine." The smug smile which spread over his face only made her want to break every tooth out of it, if she could. The twerp was lucky he turned and kept walking. 

Herr Edelstein hummed down the chortles bubbling in his throat, clearly still giddy over his power in this situation. His commands came out with the firmness of a noble and the mockery of a child. "Any letters or formal documents regarding your kingdom will now be placed under the door of the larger wing to the front right of the main entrance."

"The one with the large wooden doors, yes? Wouldn't it be easier to enter it instead?"

"I did not say you could enter it," he turned around quickly and silenced her curtly. His voice hadn't a hint of giddiness. "It is a closed room. I told you that your responsibilities regarded open rooms on the property."

"Well, why is it closed, then?" she inquired, keeping a tap again on her patience in the face of his being short with her. She did little to hide the acid in her voice or the small scowl of her lip. 

It either wasn't enough or he didn't appreciate her efforts to be civil enough, because he had only interpreted this response as some form of disrespect. Which perhaps he was right in assuming. It was admittedly a struggle to behave agreeably with such a childish tyrant.

"That is additionally none of your concern," he took on a more commanding tone - one that the Hungarian had to refrain from rolling her eyes over, lest he demote her. "You are forbidden from entering it, for any reason. Not even the Kingdom of Spain or the Holy Roman Empire are permitted to enter that room. That is where I work, and it is for the benefit of everyone in this household that it remain a sanctuary of solitude. Is that perfectly understood?"

She stared him down, unamused at his continued attempts at making threats and demands. He'd get her obedience and her reluctance all the same - they were mutually exclusive, as far as he was concerned. Erzsebet hissed her words through a smile she could qualify as polite. "Yes, Herr Edelstein."

He studied that smile with suspicion, squinting his eyes down at her until he was content with her display - or at least, until he contented himself with her "polite" smile. "Good. Come with me. I will now show you to your servant quarters and introduce you to your colleagues. I trust you should be able to direct them and keep them in line."


	3. Disfunction and Fragments

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erzsebet is introduced to one of the servants that will be working under her - a descendant from the great Romulus Vargas of Rome.

The young master led Erzsebet further down the hall to smaller dwellings. Erzsebet examined them with the focus of a prospector. They were probably the homeliest rooms in the house. No decorum or fancy paintings - just bare walls and dust illuminated by the light pouring in from the window. She came to a halt in one room, noticing two small beds, just about the size of the one in the master suite. But there was no way they could have been on visit. Edelstein wasn't kidding when he mentioned little ones. 

The house employed children. 

No, not employed - enslaved. She felt her face flush a little at the thought, but she swallowed her pride. She tried to dismiss these feelings from clouding her: maybe the beds weren't for children. Maybe they were for shorter servants, those who had childhoods to look back on. 

Who was she kidding? She may have been around for centuries, but she had still been mistaken for a waif, even by her own rulers on occasion. What fully-grown human would answer to her, not knowing her situation? Would answer to her, looking like their daughter? Then again, what fully-grown human would seriously answer  _him_ : another child caught in a delusion of authority, assumedly while the real master of the house was out? 

"I imagine this should impress you, or serve as comfort in your defeat, if nothing else," the young master droned on, condescention barely holding the cracks in his voice. A child playing king. It was clear in her mind - there was no way an adult would answer him diligently. "Some time ago, we acquired property from the descendents of Rome. By my sword, strangely enough," he gloated. "You're lucky. Perhaps I spared you some humiliation."

"Plundering the house of a dead empire for antiques and scraps?" The soldier scoffed from over her shoulder. "Oh, how  _intimidating_. The humiliation is all yours just the same."

"You misunderstand. I now possess the most valuable remnant of the empire," he boasted yet again, attempting to anchor his speech. He called down sternly at the floor, directing Erzsebet's focus to the skittish movement from under one of the beds. 

" _Feli!_ " 

The soldier was on guard until she understood the word was a name - a name answered by a muffled whimper. 

"Out from under the bed. Hurry up." Edelstein commanded the stealthy dweller, hands on his hips. "You have company. Be polite." 

Shaking, the skittish one crawled out from under the bed, gripping that apron with anxious hands. The child sniffled quietly, chin raised. Was it raised to show respect or to keep from crying? To speak? With that trembling lip, it was clear she couldn't. Erzsebet had no time to think it through - her shock reacted first, knocking some of the wind out of her.

Edelstein's disciplinary glower twitched up in a haughty smile. "I introduce you to your subordinant and my underling, Feli Vargas of Venice. She and her brother are the legacy of Romulus of Rome. A testament to his name. Their subduing is perhaps my greatest accomplishment, by far. Feli, please say hello."

Erzsebet scanned the child, feeling a shiver risk crawling up her spine at the sound of that squeaky, broken "Servus." A word that felt forced, but had no bite of defiance. 

Erzsebet nodded to the child, taking in the sight of her and feeling the little one cower under her gaze. "Is he also this young? The boy?" Erzsebet inquired, feeling a shiver risk crawling up her spine. 

"Do not be so easily deceived. She is rumored to be older than either of us. They both are."

Erzsebet scanned the child. She looked as though the soldier could raise her voice the slightest bit and the child would shatter, cowering under her covers. So small and fragile in such a large, cruel world. Erzsebet could barely imagine living any longer looking like she just learned how to walk. 

"Where is the boy?" she inquired. 

"Under Spanish sovereignty. He does not live here, though he also works as a servant in Habsburg property in Madrid. You will not need to concern yourself with him, unless he arrives with the Kingdom of Spain, in which case I will inform you. He has some insistence about them spending time together or some nonsense."

"Nonsense?" The words left her sternly. It irked her. "How is it nonsense?"

"Nonsense in that their play leads to injuries. Neither one of us can afford injured help with such large houses. Besides, I don't think either one is particularly eager to see the other. They rarely get on well with each other. So it works out for the best."

Erzsebet let the thought of separated children slide. They weren't dealing simply with children. It was simple strategy. She knew Edelstein meant it was best for the house to keep them apart. it was better to keep them from unifying. Better to avoid any uprising from the descendents of Romulus Vargas. She mentally understood all of these things, but she could not begin to reconcile the sight of a sad, scared little girl torn from her brother.

She released a small snort - one which caught the young master's attention. 

"It's funny," she stated coldly. "It's so difficult to keep a family together, and yet you have no problem with a rival knowing where you sleep."

Roderich's jaw clenched, but he suppressed a shiver at her words. Even in a maid's outfit, she was still a terror. He hummed away any hint of fear as he paced around her, circling. Erzsebet stood her ground, while Feli slipped back under the bed. "Families, now and then, require distance to function. Rivals, however, are best kept close."

Erzsebet took a step forward, causing Edelstein to flinch, staggering back slightly. Although unseen, Feli's eyes glowed at the sight of those boots staggering away and at the sound of that triumphant, higher-pitched hum.

It was still all the more reason for the child to stay in hiding.

His voice returned. "I expect the two of you to create a working schedule and prioritize your tasks, the first of which will be preparing a meal for this evening. You can expect me in the dining room at the 17th hour. Feli can get distracted, but she should not give you any trouble. If she does, however-"

"I can handle a child. Don't you have to go brood somewhere?"

"17," he ordered sternly. "Do not keep me waiting." 

Feli trembled all over again when she heard the door slam. Her stomach turned in knots, seeing the other pair of boots stamp together, facing the door. Feli heard the stranger inhale sharply. 

This was the enemy Herr Edelstein warned her about - a notorious, ruthless barbarian who would enforce rules and discipline to a new intensity. 

A warrior with the jurisdiction to treat Feli however she felt necessary. 

The child hid her face, bracing for the impact of God knows what would come.


	4. Venice Floats

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Feli and Erzsebet see each other plainly.

Erzsebet's red cheeks deflated as her tongue shot from her mouth, breaking wind in a manner so silly Feli couldn't help but crawl out of hiding. The soldier jumped up and down and twisted in each landing, making sure she could be heard on the floor below her, and each stomp matched with a louder, more ridiculous raspberry. Erzsebet was only drawn out of it once she heard the sound of stifled, squeaky laughter.

Upon being discovered, Feli panicked and started apologizing rapidly: "I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'm so sorry! Please! I didn't mean to laugh at you! I meant no disrespect! I didn't mean it! I promise! Please don't curse me-"

"Curse you?" Erzsebet laughed, a jovial tone ringing with each shake. It was a sound Feli did not expect to hear from a witchy woman. He also did not expect this witchy lady to drop down to her knees and peer under the bed at the child with kind eyes. 

Yes, the child was technically her elder, but she understood physical age meant something more than just an appearance. The soldier had to think back - back to a time when she teetered when she ran, when she was getting better at swinging a sword, when she dealt with other nations that looked like her. Had she really bantered with any. There was just one, really. 

Upon recollection, she was soon back into the headspace of a child.

"You've done nothing wrong, little one," she chirped. "Besides, I can't really curse anybody. I don't have any cool witch powers beyond scaring townspeople when I come back to life."

It prompted another giggle from the child - a feeling the little one perhaps understood. Erzsebet sat alongside the bed. "If I did have powers though, you can bet I would have used them to turn him into a toad, or a bug, or-!"

"Or a cat?" Feli peaked out from the blanket.

"That's a good idea! A grumpy, fluffy, fat cat!"

"To catch all the scary mice?"

"Oh, no. I don't think he could catch mice," Erzsebet snickered, raising her nose in the air and holding her hands in front of her to examine her nails. She spoke through her nose, mocking the snob. "He'd get dirt on his paws." Feli bit her hand as Erzsebet continued.

"No, he wouldn't catch mice or fetch me ingredients for potions. Those things are for poor kitties," she imitated the aristocrat again, making Feli's teeth show. "No, he would be a spoiled indoor kitty, and he would eat his food from a saucer at the 17th hour of every day, and it would be whatever I give him."

"Can we feed him pasta?"

"Pasta and river fish soup, to be sure his milk saucer doesn't go to waste. And he would need his fluffy fur to be brushed and washed the same way every day."

"Why every day?"

Erzsebet looked down at the child now sitting beside her. "What, you think he would dare give himself a bath and risk coughing up hair balls like some sort of street urchin?" As she tried to recreate what she imagined the Edelfeline would look and sound like, coughing up his fur, Feli started to roll around on the floor, keeled over in a giggling fit.

"It would probably hurt his pretty voice," Feli chimed back through her snickers, which had Erzsebet doubled over soon after.

"Do the voice! Do the voice! What would he sound like?" Feli crawled up, shaking Erzsebet's shoulder as the soldier tried to anchor herself. 

Another spasm took control of her as she answered, "He already sounds like a spoiled cat!" Feli hid her face, laughing into Erzsebet's shoulder - the contact of which Erzsebet did not expect. Poor dear - the child must have been starved for such interactions. Lord knows, she wouldn't have had them with the sour puss downstairs. 

As Feli pushed herself up and let her giggles subside, Erzsebet observed the sweet, bright smile on the child's face and noticed the tiny wrinkles and dimples curving those rosy cheeks. It was a smile seen by countless people - a smile her father recounted to her. A smile of a harbinger of destruction and of conquest. A smile of a victor - the mighty Romulus Vargas. A smile she was warned could pose her harm some day. And now it was the angelic smile of an innocent, bubbly child. 

"You're not very mean," the child observed. Soon, she leaned in and whispered over to Erzsebet, being very secretive. "Herr Edelstein told me you were a mean, scary witch lady."

"I gathered," she responded flatly, biting down her smirk to hold from going on and saying something too mean. She was maybe already on thin ice with the whole Edelfeline saga - if Feli was one to repeat what she heard, she didn't want to risk making their lives more of a hell. 

"Why are you being so nice to me?" Feli beamed, gently running her hands over Erzsebet's long, soft hair. "You were acting so mean and scary before."

"Oh," Erzsebet looked down at the child, understanding some of the confusion. It was not an easy switch to change from a commander back to a child. It was bound to cause some confusion. "Well, sometimes I act that way because that's what people expect me to do, or because I'm scared and I want to be scarier than what's frightening me."

"Are you scared of Herr Edelstein, too?" the child whimpered again, the fear creeping up her back and making her hide her face, save those hazel eyes.

The soldier responded with a brash snort through her nose and a reassuring smile, "No, he doesn't scare me... But I am scared of..." Her smile started to falter. She was skirting around a dangerous place, a vulnerable place where anyone without honor might try to take their advantages against her. 

Looking over her shoulder again, she saw expectant, attentive eyes looking back in curiosity. Their hazel shade almost looked golden from the sunlight against them - little golden halos from the heavens.

Erzsebet took a deep breath before sighing away her apprehension. "Well, I see no harm in telling you this... You see, I lost someone very close to me, who would protect me all the time and who helped me become a great fighter, but he made this agreement for me to stay and work here to protect me, if I can't do it alone. He always taught me not to be without honor, and that's why I'm here - to honor his wishes. But I'm scared that maybe I did something wrong - that I turned out wrong, and I can't take care of myself. And I've prayed for signs that maybe... maybe I can run away and fight again, maybe I'll be sent an angel to guide my path - any miracle to get me out of staying here and let me know I'll be okay ... but I think I was sent something better than an angel."

Feli's eyes were wide, teeming with intense curiosity. She whispered. "What could be better than an angel?" 

The little one's gentleness felt unreal, like she continually chose to look at the world with the hope and imagination of a toddler. She had probably seen countless tragedies in her lifetime - the thought of them pained Erzsebet to consider. Sins of mankind witnessed by a sweet, naive face who found it in her to wake up each morning and shine like the sun. 

Erzsebet grinned down, deciding she couldn't bare to keep the child in suspense.

"A friend."

 


End file.
